


A Brown Bird's Song

by CarryOn_CarryOut



Series: Miscellaneous fics in the Sagebrush & Concrete storyline [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood is mentioned, M/M, No Angst, Pining Hanzo Shimada, Pre-Slash, Songfic, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 19:33:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16144028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarryOn_CarryOut/pseuds/CarryOn_CarryOut
Summary: Jesse cleans his gun, Hanzo stumbles upon him doing so. Songs are talked about and listened to. Set at a random point in the Sagebrush & Concrete story.





	A Brown Bird's Song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ryuity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuity/gifts).



> The main song that is talked about is Thunder & Lightning by Brown Bird.
> 
> Here is a link if you want to listen along as you read.
> 
> https://youtu.be/i_LMMQqBwjk
> 
> Other songs and bands talked about in this fic are listed in the endnotes
> 
> The title is based off of Brown Bird the band

Hanzo was walking outside one evening when he saw a splash of blue flannel that belonged to Jesse McCree. He was going to make an attempt to be polite and make small conversation, perhaps offer to bring some dinner out if he was working.

The smell of gun cleaning solution wafted on the wind towards where Hanzo was and he heard Jesse humming a tune to himself.

He approached quietly, hoping to hear. Jesse always seemed to have a different western song any time Hanzo caught him making musical noise, whistling, humming, or even singing quietly under his breath once.

And then Jesse started talking, loud enough for Hanzo to hear.

“I heard the thunder and lightnin’,” he said with his southern twang.

Sometimes Jesse said things in a tone that sounded almost musical, but this was undeniably singing. Hanzo had paused his silent creep towards the cowboy and leaned against the nearby wall.

“Struck by your tower today,” Jesse sang, rising in tone on the word “today”.

Hanzo felt his face morph into a small smile. Jesse was singing and he most likely didn’t realize Hanzo was there. Jesse had one earpiece in. His comm holoscreen was open and displaying lyrics but he was focusing on cleaning his gun.

“And though the world wasn’t frighted-”

From what Hanzo could see from this distance away, the screen displayed “frightened” but Jesse didn’t pronounce the “n” sound. Jesse had a lovely singing voice, whiskeyed and full of twang.

“You sent the whole world away.”

It was a vulnerable sound, more accepting than anything else. His voice rose on the last syllable.

“And now you’re huddled ‘n’ alone in your tower of tears.” The screen displayed the word “there” instead of the word “and”.

Jesse continued without pause. “Every step ‘n’ every stone filled with millions of fears.”

Jesse dabbed a small gun cloth with a solution, dipping his voice lower on the start of the next lyric.

“Yer poison blood ‘n’ brittle bones- start ta clutter ‘n’ crack, beneath yer hell of a home.”

The word “Home” was drawn out slightly. He accented lyrics, voice rising and falling in tone and volume on certain words.

He didn’t sing anything for a beat of time after that, but then he shifted his weight onto one leg and used the other to tap out a beat.

“Cut down by the cruel ‘n’ the crass fold-” he sang far quicker and with more twang. “Catch hell from the mighty ‘n’ high- Ain’t nowhere left fer the good ta go- No truth in a world fulla lies- Our unforgivin’ fettered foes fumblin’- stumble ‘round- gather all their greed ta go back to their hole in the ground- t’wash their hands of all the blood- begged- borrowed- ‘n’ stole- ta keep the good man down.”

Jesse sang quickly, as if he couldn’t get the words out fast enough. He paused for half a beat.

“Shake the hands a holy ghosts- dance along an Ivory Coast,” Jesse sang and then he dropped his tone slightly, telling the next line as a warning command, “Share yer flesh with passin’ shadows, on a bed a broken hopes,” his voice raised slightly on the next line, sneering a miniscule amount, “be sure ta breathe in deeply every bit a sin that yer lungs can hold.”

He drew out the word “hold” for a moment.

“Welcome all yer bastard actions back home,” Jesse sang and then took a breath and a pause for a few seconds.

“Why do we cry cry our eyes out in ‘em low lowly graves? Mournin’ all the times we woulda coulda shoulda had our way- we were hard hearted heathens to their soul savin’ saints- spillin’ blood in the same God’s holy name.”

Jesse breathed a small breath and then launched right back into singing.

“We were the heathens to their saints- spilling blood in the same God’s holy name.”

He took another small breath, continuing to run the cleaning brush along his gun.

“Shake the hands a holy ghosts- dance along an Ivory Coast,” Jesse repeated the lyric then he repeated his commanding and disapointed tone for the next, “Share yer flesh with passin’ shadows on a bed a broken hopes. Be sure ta breathe in deeply every bit a sin that yer lungs can hold.”

He drew out the word “hold” for a moment, just like he had before, jumping to the next lyric forcefully.

“Welcome all yer bastard actions back home,” Jesse sang clearly, letting his head droop back down to his work. He continued to bob his head along while tapping his foot, still listening to unheard music from his ear piece.

He stopped tapping his foot.

Hanzo considered saying nothing, but instead settled on simply saying,  “Bravo.”

Jesse startled, turning where he stood at the table cleaning Peacekeeper while pulling his other the gun from his holster imperceptibly fast before he seemed to slump a bit.

Hanzo chuckled at the reaction, it was not everyday that he was able to sneak up on Jesse. He was certain that if he had gotten any closer Jesse would have noticed him, but he was well over 15 feet away and tucked into the cool shadow of a building.

“Yer a fucking menace, bad fer my heart,” Jesse said as he put the gun he drew back into its holster.

“That is true,” Hanzo agreed.

Jesse glanced back to his holoscreen. “How much of that did ya hear?”

“The entire song, I believe,” Hanzo said, pushing away from the wall, he walked closer and Jesse paused the music on his holoscreen.

“Ya were jest sittin’ there,” Jesse said, sounding disbelieving, “Jest sitting there listenin’ ta me sing?”

“Yes,” Hanzo confirmed, coming up to the setup that Jesse was cleaning his gun with, its pieces strewn out on a mat on a crate that came up to a little above waist height for Jesse.

“Ya asking for an encore?” Jesse scoffed, looking at Hanzo with amusement in his eyes.

Hanzo smiled and watched the movement as Jesse continued to clean his gun. “Possibly.”

“Ya ain’t getting one,” Jesse said proudly, mockingly, almost in sing-song. “I ain’t gonna serenade ya. Not with that song or any other.”

“It was a nice song. That is all,” Hanzo defended against the unspoken accusation that he liked Jesse’s singing voice.

It was a nice voice. He was allowed to appreciate it, however, he could not bring himself to voice that much.

“Keep telling yerself that,” Jesse said flippantly, his gloved hands contrasting blue against the steel of his weapon as he ran a brush along the inside of it.

Hanzo caught sight of the spur at the butt of the gun. “Does it spin?”

“What? Oh-” Jesse paused his cleaning. “Yeah, the spur spins a little but it don’t jingle like the ones on my boots do.”

“How does it go,” Hanzo questioned, “‘My Spurs Jangle Jingle’?”

Jesse snorted. “It’s ‘I’ve Got Spurs That Go Jingle Jangle Jingle’ if yer talking about that one really old song that was written before the 1950’s.”

“Yes. That one,” Hanzo said, wishing that he was better at small talk.

“I can pull that one up if yer plannin’ on stickin’ around,” Jesse offered. “It ain’t one of my favorites though.”

Hanzo hummed a no as Jesse removed a glove and took his earpiece out. He tapped at the screen with his now bare prosthetic, changing the settings so that sound played from the speaker of the comm instead.

“What _is_ your favorite?” Hanzo asked.

Jesse made an insulted noise.

“I can’t choose jest one,” Jesse said, wounded and surprised. “I like a lot of country, but if we are strictly speaking songs that you wouldn't find in any ole honky-tonk, I reckon I like things by the bands Brown Bird, Hozier, and The Devil Makes Three the most.”

“I have not heard of them,” Hanzo admitted. “Was that song you sang by one of them?”

“Yeah, it’s ‘Thunder and Lightning’ by Brown Bird. Real close to my heart,” Jesse said. “I’ll play it fer ya if ya want me to, I don’t really do it justice, ta be honest.”

“If it is not any trouble.”

Jesse moved his prosthetic hand along holoscreen and a different image popped up for the song, an eerie and wrong looking drawing of a one eyed cow-beast thing.

The song began to play from Jesse’s holoscreen, instrumental seeping out from the speaker as Jesse pulled a new thin blue latex-like glove onto his prosthetic. He removed a brush from the kit next to him and got back to work.

Hanzo noticed that there was a clean white sock inexplicably resting next to the gun, half twisted over itself.

Hanzo was going to ask about it but then the singer began the first line. Hanzo was alarmed at the lack of difference between the singer’s and Jesse’s voices. Hanzo crossed his arms over his chest. Jesse continued to work, contentedly tapping his foot to the beat of the song, paying Hanzo no mind.

There were certain parts where Hanzo could hear the difference between Jesse’s voice and the singer’s, it wasn’t a carbon copy. One of the surprising things was that the lyrical slip ups were also done by the singer, or seemed to be said in the same way Jesse had. “Frighted” instead of “frightened” which was odd because the lyrics of the holoscreen showed “frightened” both times.

A soprano singer joined in for the chorus, harmonizing pleasantly with the whiskeyed tenor voice.

The lyrics ended and there was more instrumental.

After the instrumental ended, Jesse looked up from his work and paused his holoscreen before another song could begin to play.

He looked at Hanzo expectantly. “Amazin’, right?”

“I honestly, at first, believed that you were just playing a recording of you singing,” Hanzo said as he uncrossed his arms.

Jesse laughed. “Ain’t you a flatterer!”

“I do not aim to be one,” Hanzo rebuked.

Jesse smiled and ran his hand along his holoscreen again.

“Now this one,” Jesse started, pointing to a song that had similarly eerie artwork, “I think you’ll like this one.”

“I have other matters I should attend to,” Hanzo lied and he felt the dragons nip along his tattoo, punishing him.

“Alright, I’ll let ya get on yer way then,” Jesse gave a small wave with a brush still in his hand.

Hanzo left.

**Author's Note:**

> Brown Bird was an amazing and underrated band. Rest in Peace, David Lamb. 
> 
> Hozier is a musician who had the hit single "Take Me to Church" but he has many great songs besides that one, plus a new EP out.
> 
> Devil Makes Three is a band that blends many different music styles. Great band, would recommend
> 
> My Spurs Go Jingle Jangle Jingle is a song that has a cover that is in Fallout: New Vegas, and there has been some contention between McCree fans and some fans of FNV.
> 
> Please do not go and comment on any of these bands, or musicians, or their works saying "mchanzo brought me here" because honestly its a little much, and you can appreciate the music for what it is without doing so.
> 
> It does not matter how you got there, simply that you have arrived.


End file.
